


No Room for the Insincere (A Love Song Remix)

by inksheddings



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Gen, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-18
Updated: 2011-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Leonard had placed his bet on the likelihood of Jim getting knocked up by an alien, it wasn't something he ever figured he'd collect on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Room for the Insincere (A Love Song Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chaletian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaletian/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Lovesong of Jim + Mike](https://archiveofourown.org/works/89902) by [chaletian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaletian/pseuds/chaletian). 



> Thank you, Chaletian, for letting me play in your sandbox. I had quite a bit of fun!
> 
> Further thanks to my most wonderful beta, whymzycal.
> 
> Title partially taken from Warren Zevon's "Mutineer."

When Leonard had placed his bet on the likelihood of Jim getting knocked up by an alien, it wasn't something he ever figured he'd collect on. He still didn't plan on actually accepting his winnings. It seemed wrong, somehow. Not as wrong, however, as sitting in Jim's quarters as the two of them attempted to get shit-faced drunk after Sulu's questionable efforts at a baby shower.

Okay, so it had been more of a stress-relief gathering among friends than a gift-giving soiree.

As light-hearted as Jim had been acting about the whole bizarre situation, he was still gestating a damned mysterious organism. The Traglonians were a heretofore unknown species, and if Jim's chameleon-like bed partner hadn't told Leonard what to look for, he might have completely missed the fact that anything at all was off with Jim. Until the one physical change — a light blue tinge to the skin — manifested itself, that is. Overall, Jim was fine, he was healthy, and Leonard couldn't find one thing about the "pregnancy" that was causing Jim any physical harm. But that wasn't the kind of harm Leonard was worrying about right now.

Jim downed another shot of whiskey and placed the glass back on the table with far more grace than he should be showing after so many drinks. "Damn. I should be a lot more wasted than I am right now. I mean, I feel it. Like tipsy. But nowhere near drunk."

Leonard just grunted and downed his own shot. He hadn't had as much to drink as Jim, but the room was starting to tilt ever-so-slightly to the left, so he figured it was time stop with the alcohol. But he poured another shot for Jim.

"Last week you burned your arm down in engineering and it healed up on its own before you even made it to sickbay. Two days ago you ate that stew that gave everyone else who ate it the most horrible case of the runs I've ever had the displeasure of treating. You didn't even pass gas. This morning you cut yourself shaving — and why you insist on using such a barbaric and outdated form of razor is a conversation for another time, by the way — but you didn't need so much as a square of toilet paper before the skin had closed up."

Jim looked up at him from under his eyelashes as he picked up his glass and smirked. "So what are you saying, Bones? Fatherhood is good for me?" Despite the smile on his face, there wasn't really any humor in Jim's voice.

"I'm saying finish your drink and then have another."

And for once, in as long as Leonard and Jim had been friends, Jim did as he was told.

*****

Spock left Jim and Leonard alone in the transporter room after the Traglonian had beamed down with the — baby? infant? newborn amorphous life form?

Whatever. It had been a clusterfuck of epic proportions and Starfleet still didn't know whether to make friends or foe out of such a strange society. Allies that could pass for human and then disappear through air vents would be pretty handy, after all. And pretty dangerous.

Well, at least the blue tinge to Jim's skin had faded as soon as the Traglonian infant had separated itself from Jim's system. Now, Jim just looked like Jim again.

But Jim was far too quiet for Leonard's liking. He didn't think, however, that a bottle of whiskey was going to cut it this time.

"Now what?" Jim asked quietly, as if reading Leonard's mind.

Leonard had no fucking clue. What had happened to Jim was nowhere near as funny as some of the crew had seemed to think it was, and Leonard made sure they damn well knew, whenever he overheard even the slightest hint of a snigger, but he also had no idea exactly what Jim was feeling. Leonard hadn't seen his daughter in person, or touched her, for nigh on two years. But he was having a hard time with the concept that maybe, just maybe, Jim was experiencing something remotely close to the feeling of loss that was his constant companion.

Better safe than sorry, though.

"Do you … do you want to talk about it?" Leonard asked sincerely. Truly, he meant it, but they were still hard words to say. He could count on one hand the number of times he and Jim had had serious conversations. The trick to their friendship was that they knew they _could_ have talks like that when necessary. Not that they actually did all that often. Which, yeah, sounded kind of fucked up, when Leonard thought about it.

"I'm not sure what exactly we'd talk about," Jim said. "I mean … the fact that I don't really feel a good god damn thing right now? That there was this- this _life_ that needed me to survive, needed me to fucking gestate, Bones — _gestate_. How messed up is that? But all I feel right now is glad that it's gone. Glad that it's over with and out of me. I feel nothing but relief, Bones. What the hell does that say about me?"

"It says that you haven't lost your mind, Jim."

Though he'd never voiced it aloud to anyone, especially not Jim, in Leonard's opinion what had happened to Jim was a violation. It had absolutely been non-consensual, even if the initial sex act had been Jim's idea. He'd had no way of knowing what the Traglonian had been up to, that it was simply looking for a living, physical organism to attach some of its own version of DNA to.

"I don't know about that, Bones," Jim said so quietly that Leonard couldn't help himself. He reached out and placed his hand on the back of Jim's head, not really ruffling his hair or anything that ridiculous. It just felt like the right thing to do, make contact rather than conversation. Jim didn't seem to mind, if the feel of him leaning back against his hand was any indication.

"You know," Jim began, "in about five weeks we'll reach Baretti Station. We'll be close enough to Earth that you could put in for some decent shore leave. I have it on good authority that your captain will approve."

Leonard was floored. They weren't going to be all that close to Earth, not close enough to beam down. He'd have to hitch a ride with an Earthbound ship and that ride would take another week, at least. But damn, it was tempting.

"In about ten weeks we'll actually be orbiting Earth," Leonard replied. His hand was still on Jim, which was starting to feel awkward considering the turn in their conversation, but instinct made him leave it where it was. "Then you could come down with me."

"Yeah?"

"Joanna would love to finally meet you in person."

Leonard could feel the tension leave Jim's body, at least for now. He put his hand back down at his side, then nudged Jim toward the door.

"Let's head back to sickbay. I want to make sure that all your body systems are back to normal."

Jim groaned. "Shit, Bones. You already did that, like ten times! Really? Again?!"

Leonard just turned his nudging into shoving and figured that after he assured himself that, yeah, Jim was okay physically, maybe they would go ahead and indulge in one more bottle of whiskey before Leonard broke out Joanna's baby pictures and made a complete fool of himself in Jim's presence.

After all, what else were best friends for?

 

 **end**


End file.
